Bound by Moonlight and Magic
The scream of the Ink Realm didn’t fade.
It folded.
The fabric of reality pulled tight like skin against bone—then tore.
Aboveground, the Sigil Tree thrashed, its branches convulsing like they were caught in a storm no one else could feel. Petals fell in torrents, not soft or solemn, but in a frantic flutter like fleeing birds. The bark blistered with script, symbols no one alive had ever been meant to read.
Kael shielded his eyes, breath ragged as the sky cracked in silent fissures, revealing not light… but drafts. Pages—thousands of them—spiraling in an invisible cyclone above the Hollow, each one written in different handwriting, different lifetimes, different truths.
Some were cruel.
Some were kind.
All were possible.
“Thistle!” he called, fightin
